


How It Ends

by FangQueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, HP: EWE, Jealousy, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Past friends with benefits, Pining, Unhappy Ending, sexual suggestion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10053890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangQueen/pseuds/FangQueen
Summary: Blaise wanted nothing more than to go to him, to take him in his arms, to fix all of this...but he knew there was more than just furniture separating them now, and that that was a bridge long since burned.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunset_oasis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunset_oasis/gifts).



> Written for @ff-sunset-oasis, who requested from this list: Draise, #79 “I’m not going to apologize for this. Not anymore.”
> 
> Original Tumblr post [here](https://ohlookagaydraco.tumblr.com/post/157882648618/draise-im-not-going-to-apologise-for-this-not).

Everyone had laughed at the end of their eighth year when they’d said they were going to move in together. It had been a running joke amongst their circle for awhile: that no one else would dare join in on that venture, because they’d rather not have to listen to them having sex every night. Truth be told, they’d laughed, too, albeit a bit more awkwardly. Because they _hadn’t_ been sleeping together at the time.

Despite all that had gone on between them in the past few months, nothing could have sufficiently prepared Blaise for hearing his best friend--and, most importantly, ex-fuck buddy-- _giggle_ as he was pressed into the opposite side of their front door, presumably by an urgent kiss from whoever was making him sound so goddamn happy. Dark eyes flicked to the door handle, expecting to see it turning (and to have to deal with the emotion of observing that flirtatious foreplay in person), but it remained still. Instead, he heard his roommate mutter what sounded like a reluctant “goodnight.” His companion’s answer was more muffled, but somehow Blaise felt like he should’ve recognized the voice.

Draco entered the flat, thankfully, alone. It did not, however, serve to quell the stirring in Blaise’s chest. The stench of alcohol permeated the air, despite the distance between them: Draco moving towards their small kitchen, and Blaise in an armchair by the hearth against the far wall. Even with the couch and counter separating them, it was plain to see Draco’s clothes were a mess, haphazardly thrown back on, by the looks of it, and his hair was rumpled far beyond what he would’ve found acceptable normally. Blaise closed the book he’d stopped reading at least twenty minutes ago and set it on the end table beside him.

“You sure were out late tonight.”

Draco paused, before slowly plopping his keys onto the counter with a definitive clink. Even with his back turned to him, Blaise could tell he was gritting his teeth, choosing his words carefully. “I told you you should’ve come out tonight.” He turned to face him then, taking note of the book he’d discarded and the fact that he was still fully dressed, despite the hour, and added, “You didn’t have to wait up for me, you know.”

“Who were you with?”

The bluntness of the question stopped Draco in his tracks, and Blaise felt himself instantly regret his word choice. They’d promised each other when they’d started everything that they wouldn’t be like that--and now that it had all ended, he knew that he didn’t have a right to ask. But to _hear them_ , right outside his door, like he had...he couldn’t just let that go.

Draco ended up deciding to ignore the rather obvious hippogriff in the room and simply stated, “Pansy, Greg. You know, the usual. We went to that club that opened up by the Leaky.”

Blaise’s gaze flicked to the lovebite blossoming on his pale neck--before Draco clapped a hand to it, having noticed where his eyes were trained--and repeated, “Who were you with? Just now?”

His gray eyes darkened. A small sigh, and then he admitted quietly, “Theo met up with us, and I ended up going back to his for a bit. He was just seeing me home.”

Blaise closed his eyes briefly, staving off the surge of jealousy that ignited in his veins. He should’ve known. That voice had sounded familiar for a reason. He could see it now: Theo rubbing up on him at the bar, taking him home, Draco’s grinning face as he was snogged proper into their door...

“Look, I know it’s hard on you; that’s why I’ve not been bringing anyone back here--”

“Just not _inside_ , anyway.”

Blaise watched him take a deep, even breath in through his nose. “I didn’t want to put you through that. But it’s hard on me, too, you know. I mean, I’ve been thinking about it, and...I’m going to _have_ bring a guy back eventually, more than to just have them drop me off. I mean, if I started seeing someone seriously, anyway. I’m going to have to be able to bring them back to my own fucking house at that point, aren’t I?”

Seeing someone seriously? Stupidly, that had never even occurred to Blaise: the inevitable fact of life that yes, eventually Draco would start seeing one particular person on a regular basis, and thus would bring him around. Not just to their shared home, but to outings with mutual friends, any events they’d be invited to. And someday down the line, Blaise might be forced to attend Draco’s _wedding_ to said man...Now he was sure he was getting carried away with himself, but acknowledging that didn’t stop the icy clench around his heart at the thought.

“Well, that’s awful decent of you, thinking of me like that,” he heard himself reply snarkily, as if from a distance, his anger clouding his mind and his judgement, “but you didn’t think I wouldn’t want to hear _that_?”

Draco’s eyes widened as he finally realized it, that when they were just outside...He stammered out a quick “Blaise, I--” before being cut off:

“You didn’t think that _maybe_ I’d want to know it was one of my own friends you were sweet on--?”

“Well, no, frankly! I didn’t want to bring it up till it was actually something--”

“That it was _Theodore fucking Nott_ taking you back to his for a cheap--?”

“You know what,” Draco huffed in irritation, running shaky hands through his golden locks. “I’m sorry, I know we’ve been trying _oh so hard_ to skirt the apparently delicate issue here, but the point is, Blaise: it could’ve been _you_ outside with me just now. It could’ve been _you_ at that club with me tonight. But you didn’t want that! You expected me to just...be okay with waiting on the sidelines for you to figure everything out--”

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to! You made it pretty clear when you carefully ignored all those hints I gave you!”

“I wasn’t ignoring anything, I just wasn’t--”

“And, really, what else would I have done?! My choices were either to stay ‘faithful’ to you--whatever the fuck it meant at the point, considering you didn’t even have the decency to acknowledge what we had as a _relationship_ \--or to go out and do my own thing, and come home to... _this_!”

He didn’t know when, exactly, he’d gotten to his feet. Everything had descended into a blur of noise and frantic gestures, of Draco’s fuming face from the other side of the couch, of his own racing heartbeat, the blood pounding in his ears. This wasn’t the first time they’d done this, but something about it felt different. He could hear the defeat in Draco’s tone more so now than ever before. He was losing him. He was losing him, and Zabini’s didn’t like to lose.

“It was pretty obvious you didn’t want a relationship with me at all!” Draco was shouting, and it made Blaise see red, because that was wrong, so beyond _wrong_ , and he just wanted to show him that somehow, if only he could think of a way!

“But I _do_ want that! I’m sorry I didn’t say it at the time. I didn’t know how to say it! But I _do_ , I really do want that with you!”

“Well, it’s a little too late _now_ , isn’t it?!”

“Only because you couldn’t possibly manage to keep it in your pants long enough!”

The air between them suddenly ran cold. It actually took Blaise a split second to realize what he’d even said. When he had, all he wanted to do was snatch it back, but he knew he couldn’t. And if he couldn’t do that, then he wanted to look away, to leave. He couldn’t bear the look of pure shock--and hurt--on Draco’s face.

“That’s it, Blaise. I’m sorry, but...I can’t do this anymore.”

No. No no no, he couldn’t be hearing this. Couldn’t be seeing that dejected expression cross Draco’s features. “Just...give me a second, I didn’t mean that--”

“Tomorrow morning, I’m going to pack some of my things--”

“Please--”

“ _I’m going to pack some of my things_ and go to Pansy’s. I’ll send for the rest when I can.” Draco moved as if to head to his room. Blaise reached for him instinctively, and, as if sensing it, he stopped and turned back. Leveling him with a red-rimmed stare, he said, “You know...I would’ve gladly waited for you to figure it out. I really would’ve. I...I don’t think I should have to explain to you how I felt about you, what that time we spent together meant to me. All you had to do was show you cared. That’s it. But you waited until the last possible second to start, and...And I'm not going to apologize for this.” He swallowed the emotion threatening to shatter his voice and said again, more firmly, “I’m not going to apologize for this. Not anymore.”

“Dray--”

“ _Don’t_.”

The pet name hung in the air between them--an ugly, gnarled thing that Blaise wished he hadn’t said as soon as it had fled his mouth. He felt the last shard of that strong, solid backbone he’d always prided himself on break as he watched a single tear finally fall from the blonde’s eye and tumble down his cheek. Draco didn’t even bother to wipe it away, preoccupied as he was with preventing the remaining floodgates from opening. Blaise wanted nothing more than to go to him, to take him in his arms, to fix all of this...but he knew there was more than just furniture separating them now, and that that was a bridge long since burned.

The sound of Draco’s bedroom door slamming down the hall jolted Blaise back to life. He had half a mind to go after him, but found he didn't have the strength. Instead, he collapsed back into the chair behind him--unable to accomplish much else at the moment--and rubbed his palms across his exhausted face.

He thought he heard a stifled cry from the furthest room. Emotion swelled in his typically dry eyes as he realized what it meant. He’d allowed the one thing he’d ever really wanted to slip through his fingers, and he’d done nothing about it other than to continue to push him as far away as possible. It had had nothing to do with Theo, or any of them. Nothing at all. And all he could think about now--all that keep running through his mind, over and over--was what Draco had said, in the end: that he would’ve gladly waited for him, had Blaise only taken the time to show he’d cared.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments = <3!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](https://ohlookagaydraco.tumblr.com/) and [LJ](http://fangqueen.livejournal.com/) as well!


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